


i do not know how to turn unless it is towards her,

by incalyscent



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: ...anyways, Begging, Coming Untouched, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hickeys, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, Lowercase, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sharing a Bed, Wing Grooming, Wing Kink, Wing Oil, Wings, but it's cool it's fun it's sexy, guess that's not a tag yet alright, if this makes you recognize me from my cursed supernatural phase i am so sorry, local ace does porn, local poet does prose, look this is still soft it's just also horny, no beta we die like men, sabriel don't look, sorry if you followed me for wholesome content i'm not usually like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-09 22:11:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19895164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incalyscent/pseuds/incalyscent
Summary: lucifer has a scar on his chest, from where the axe had cut into his skin.





	i do not know how to turn unless it is towards her,

**Author's Note:**

> forgive me father for i have sinned,  
> i have loved a woman more desperately than i have loved god. i have looked to a woman more reverently than i have the sky. there, in the sulk of her bottom lip, i find myself talking about a heaven that only exists when she is looking at me,  
> father she has not been forged between the dip of my teeth, she is not my rib, or my left side, she is my entire stomach, she is my spine.  
> i have been searching for prayer, father but i have found that i can only say her name  
> dear god, let me have her  
> dear god, let her rest with me  
> dear god, let the sky turn red from how we burn  
> the plum tree in our back garden has withered because i have not seen the sun for five days. i have been worshipping at the cradle of her hips  
> father, she has cleansed me with those hands and those eyes, **i do not know how to turn unless it is towards her,** i do not know where to go except in her direction.
> 
> -azra t, _take me to church._

lucifer has a scar on his chest, from where the axe had cut into his skin.

it took chloe a long time to notice it. a longer time to notice the one on his shoulder. longer still to find where the bullet from her gun grazed his thigh. 

it takes them much longer than chloe anticipated for them to sleep together. 

lucifer has to work out the duality between love and desire. that he is _allowed_ to want her, and because he does it doesn’t diminish his love for her. so chloe waits. she’d wait another millennia, because she needs him to know that the basis of her love does not come from a carnal place.

when they do end up falling into one another, lucifer makes very good on his many, _many_ promises of being a good lay. to say that chloe hasn’t had good sex before would be a lie, but lucifer was something else. he found almost everything that made her twitch without a drop of his powers, and loves every noise and tremble he could drag out of her, to the point where it was borderline _torture_. he once sat her down on the lid of the baby grand and ate her out until she had to drag him up by the hair, legs shaking, and lick the taste of herself out of his mouth until her nerves could stitch back together.

and he, _he_ is so responsive. he doesn’t shy away from it either. chloe is a simple woman, but there was a trend in men that she saw in which they don’t show _anything_ , let alone their pleasure. lucifer isn’t like this. he’s _loud_ , and he makes sure to tell her just how much he likes something, and it’s potentially the hottest thing she’s experienced in a good long while. it makes her more comfortable, but it also makes something in her rear its head.

at first, she thought he was being too polite about her being too boring, which he closed down immediately. he’d kissed both her eyes and said _darling, i’d forgo everything, if that’s what you desired_ and she’s almost melted into the floor. she wants to make him feel as good as he does to her. she wants him to feel _loved_.

-

lucifer has a scar in the middle of his chest and chloe has her lips on it. they’ve been like this for what seems like hours, chloe straddling lucifer’s lap, most of his buttons undone, one of his hands under her shirt. it’s lazy kissing with an underlying heat, coals just heating up to a flame. they didn’t even make it into his bedroom; she’d guided him back to the couch and climbed on top of him, and he gladly went.

she skates her teeth across that scar and lucifer shivers, tipping his head back, and the request is obvious enough that chloe kisses up the column of his throat, lingers just long enough to feel him swallow under her lips. she gets her hands onto the sides of his face, meets his dark eyes before she’s pressing a kiss to his lips, and he surges up to deepen it, his arms holding her close. she bites his lip, just a little bit, because she can hurt him but she doesn’t want to. he still sighs and opens up to her, his skin feverishly hot against her own, and eventually chloe curls her fingers into his hair and pulls away from him, leaving him to make a soft noise of disappointment, chasing after her mouth. still she makes sure to watch as his eyes flutter open, unfocused and dark, his mouth kissed red. he shifts underneath her with the faint squeak of leather, but he looks content and in love.

“what are you thinking,” he says, his voice raspy and low. chloe smiles down at him, the curve of her mouth interrupted by her teeth as he hand wanders her front, rucking her shirt up.

“i was thinking -” chloe stops to give him a kiss, because he’s staring at her lips - “i was thinking about - given your history and all - the distinct lack of hickeys you’ve received.”

his eyes leave her mouth and leap to her gaze, his eyebrows jumping into his tousled hairline. “oh?”

chloe hums her assent, dropping her lips to lucifer’s jaw, to the side of his neck, and the way he tips his head and rumbles low in his throat answers the question before she’s even asked it. “would you like one?”

“would be quite a novelty, wouldn’t it?”

chloe presses a hand to his chest, and his heart is thrumming, matching pace with hers. “answer the question, lucifer.”

“bossy.” his tone is bright. “ _yes_ , chloe. _please_.”

at the first nip of her teeth one of his hands goes to the curve of her ass, dragging her closer, and the other tightens its hold where it had settled high on her ribs. he knows that she likes it when he asks nicely, uses his words, so she murmurs _good boy_ into the set of his shoulder and then sucks a mark into it.

the noise he makes coils tight into the pit of her stomach, high and helpless and needy, and then there’s the sound of shattering glass and he freezes.

his one wing is cramped against the backrest. the other had snapped out with enough force to send both their glasses from the coffee table careening across the room to shatter against the opposite wall. he looks just as stunned as she does, his eyes wide and mouth parted. maybe even a little bit of sheepishness on his face. the mark she’d left him is soft red and stands out against his skin, easily covered by his shirt collar. still, she runs a hand up to bracket his neck and presses her thumb to it and he _trembles_. it shakes him all the way down to his feathers.

“well that’s exciting,” she says, trying to distil some of the tension that had built in him. despite it, his eyes are so dark that chloe swears she can see the start of a new universe in them, fresh and without stars.

“indeed.” he sounds a little choked. he clears his throat and folds his wings back into himself, but chloe can tell that he’s hard underneath her. it’s his turn to press his mouth to her throat, and she tangles a hand in his hair and lets him do so. “how about we move this to the bedroom?” he’s steering them away from what just happened, but that’s alright. now is not the time to unpack it. chloe hums in agreement, and when she passes a hand up his back it comes away slick with angel oil.

-

later, laying in bed, chloe rolls onto her side to let her eyes trace the profile of him. they’d both been stripped of their clothes, and the sheets of lucifer’s bed are smooth and cool against her skin. he’s disheveled, but content, covered in a sheen of sweat. he has a line of lovebites dotted over his chest, down his stomach, placed lovingly on each hipbone. chloe knows he has more hidden on his inner thighs because she put them there, and just thinking about the noises he made makes a spark of pleasure sing through her veins, even if only for a moment.

she reaches and traces her finger over the lump in his throat and he turns his head to look at her, and his face is soft enough she could sleep in his expression. he rolls towards her as if drawn on a line and drapes his arm over her, sure and solid, before hooking a heel around her ankle for good measure. chloe is still loose limbed and tingly because she came at _least_ twice, but she chuckles and gathers him up as best she can as he tucks his head against hers and gives a satisfied groan.

“good?”

“you may be the death of me, detective.” it’s said with no malice, almost sleepily.

chloe laughs, traces his fingers up his spine. he shivers when she touches a shoulderblade, and she nudges their noses together to get his attention. his eyes blink back open, unfocused.

“we gonna talk about what happened earlier?” her words are soft, unforceful. lucifer lets his confusion melt into something dirty, stretched across his face.

“which instance would you prefer?” he purrs. she snorts, nosing at his neck. she skitters her fingers across his side and holds fast as he flails. “mercy! fine, i’ll stop.”

“i was talking about your wings.” 

“oh.” he sobers a bit, but not enough to really make her worry.

“i haven’t seen them do that before. just sorta...pop out.”

“ah, well,” he starts, shifting so his hip isn’t digging so badly into the mattress, “they do that sometimes when i’m - when i’m emotional.”

chloe lifts an eyebrow. “horny isn’t an emotion, lucifer.”

he scoffs. “says you! i look like i was mauled!”

“you loved it.”

he chuckles. “i did.”

chloe bites her lip, looking up into his eyes, spreading her fingers over his shoulders like she could coax his wings into reality again. like she could pull the divine out of him.

“if it happens again,” she starts slowly, “would you be willing to leave them out?”

he looks a little surprised. he takes a moment to contemplate, but chloe can count on one hand the amount of times he’s denied her. all she can think about is the submissive splay of his feathers and the fact that her hands still smell like the overabundance of preen oil that had sprung from his skin, soaking her palms.

“alright,” he says. his gaze goes from uncertain to tender as soon as she smiles.

“thank you,” she murmurs against his mouth, and he kisses her so sweetly her toes curl with the weight of it.

-

when they get up for work in the morning, chloe watches him dress. watches him try to arrange his collar so the precinct wouldn’t be able to see how she devours him. still, he makes no effort to cover the marks with makeup. she knows they’ll fade as soon as they part ways, but she can’t help but peek at them as he leans over the table to speak to ella, and his eyes are dark and devilish every time he catches her staring.

-

the next time it happens, it happens almost the same, with chloe’s mouth on his neck and her hands in his hair. he’s got one thigh between her legs, and when his hips rock forward chloe moans, low in her throat, and in that moment he makes a shaky breath and then the sound of his bedside lamp hitting the floor with a crunch breaks them both out of their revery.

his wings shake, scattering the dimming evening light across the dark bedspread, casting rainbows up the walls. he’s on top of her, so his wings are free to flex and spread as they see fit, feather’s splayed invitingly.

“beautiful,” she says, breathless, and he hides his face in her neck and _whines_. she laughs, soft and warm, and watches as some of the tension melts out of him, until she can feel his mouth curve against her skin.

“that really works for me,” he says, hushed. chloe tugs on his hair enough that she can turn her head and lick into his mouth, if only briefly. he makes a disappointed noise when she pulls away.

“what, you mean to tell me you like being told you’re good looking?” her smile has a scrunch in it, folding up her nose. he nips her lip just for being cheeky, but it’s so gentle it hardly feels like anything. his wings are still out, just like she’d asked for, but she can tell just by looking at them that he’s a little unsure. she slides a hand up over his ribs, and just like last time the oil pearls into the creases on her palm.

“is it alright if i touch your wings?” he gives her a glance, and then nods his head. she’s touched them before, grooming him, petting him. but this seems different. she’s never seen him lose control of them, he rarely loses control of _anything_. still, when she skates a hand up his back and rakes her nails through the feathers right against his skin, he chokes on a noise that flares between her legs and sags against her.

“does that feel good?”

“ _yes._ ”

“i feel like this is not the intended use of these.”

he laughs, though it’s a little hoarse. his wings lift up enough that her fingers slide out of his feathers, and she can tell he laments the loss. “well, i wouldn’t think so, but here we are.”

“you haven’t done this before?” chloe taps his shoulder, pushes at his chest until he climbs off of her, wings folding in. he shakes his head as chloe seats herself into his lap, and his hands go to her bare waist on instinct.

“popping all sorts of cherries, aren’t you, detective,” he says, his mouth returning to her neck, her breasts, circling one nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. chloe sighs, eyes fluttering shut. one of her hands goes to his hair, but the other reaches for a folded wing, gripping the strong joint of its wrist, and lucifer goes slack jawed against her skin, hot breath skittering out of his mouth.

“ _chloe_.” he breathes it like scripture, and trembles when her hand strokes along the edge of his wing. the sound of her name on his lips makes her rock her hips down against his, feeling him harden against the crease of her thigh.

“do you trust me?” 

he looks up at her, and his eyes are far away, otherworldly, but somehow drawn to her like she’s the earth and he’s merely a moon. “more than anything.”

chloe smiles, cradles his face and kisses him, slow and sweet, until the jitter leaves him. “you’ll let me know if i fuck up then?”

“i sincerely doubt you will.”

“too good to me,” she breathes, and she can feel him shiver underneath her until it shakes his feathers. he moves one hand to her ass and pulls her close, tucking his nose into her collarbone, and she keeps one hand on his jaw to watch his face. her other returns to his feathers, his wing pressing into her hands as she strokes the arch of it, burying her fingers into the feathers. the energy coming off of them is different now, less static, more steady waves of feeling, ebbing and flowing. he pants, heady, and sinks his teeth into the fragile flesh on her collarbone, and she rolls her hips again just as she pulls on a feather to stay balanced, and he muffles a strung out sound against her skin. she moves her hand to his hair and tips his head back and he goes willingly, mouth red and panting, eyes very nearly black with arousal.

“let me hear you,” she says the words straight into his mouth, right before she kisses him, filthy and slow. her hand drifts back to those short feathers, scratching her fingers there, and he _whimpers_ , going pliant, gripping onto her.

“that’s the spot, huh?” she gives his lips one last playful lick before turning her attention under his jaw.

“yes. _please_.” his wings are trembling, set in an obvious display. chloe lets go of his face, slides her hand down his chest, making sure to catch his nipple as she goes, making his breath stutter.

she can smell the oil on him, thick like a thundercloud, sweet and subtle like rain. her own personal petrichor. it doesn’t take long to find it, slicking down his ribs, making his skin soft. 

when she bumps into one of his preen glands he jolts as if shocked, horribly needy noise working its way out of his throat. that wing spreads, baring its vulnerable undersides as he shakes, panting and flushed. she’s ready to take her hands off of him, worried it’s to much when he says “do that again, _please_ do that again” into the curve of her throat. she bites her lip, fresh arousal washing through her. she skates her fingers back up and _rubs_ , and he keens, high and needy.

“oh, lucifer,” chloe can hear the reverence in her own voice, half like a prayer, “you’re so _wet_.”

a guttural groan rattles away in his chest. his wings flex, pressing back into her touch as she switches sides, burying oil slick fingers into his neglected wing. “only for you,” he rasps. something hot and primal twists in chloe’s chest. she nips his shoulder, his neck, and he bares his throat, glittering wings down. she’s not sure if he’s allowed himself to relinquish so much control before, and she _loves_ it.

“so good for me,” she says, scraping her teeth against the bob of his throat. he makes a sound that’s halfway to a sob, and chloe moves her hands out again, stroking longer feathers.

“give me a colour, lucifer,” she says softly. he looks strung out, but he blinks his eyes back open, and his mouth curves up, an approximation of his usual lecherous grin.

“ _green_ . very, _very_ green.”

she breathes a laugh, and kisses him gently, her hands wandering back to where they had been exploring before. arousal throbs low and consistent between her legs, but she’s not even thinking about herself right now. all she’s thinking about is the scrunch of his brow, the wanting noise he makes every time she pets a feather or rubs at his oil glands. the long feathers on his back are saturated in oil, sticking to his back, her arms. she lets a nail catch one of his preen glands and he _chokes_ , his hips bucking.

“could you come like this?” the awe in her voice is evident, even to herself. his hands dig into her, one into the give of her ass, and the other at her thigh. they don’t hurt. they never do.

“ _yes_ .” it’s more of a desperate hiss than a word. the thought alone makes chloe groan, her lip tucked between her teeth. his cock is a hot brand on her thigh where it rests, and it jumps when she finds firm bone and strong muscle underneath his feathers. he’s making aborted half thrusts with his hips, unconsciously seeking friction, and chloe is in no place to stop him. she _wants_ \- wants to make him come just from this; to watch his face as he tumbles over the edge; wants to see if she can make him see heaven again.

she scrapes her fingers through those down feathers again, past his ribs and bumping over his preen glands again. she whispers “then come for me, lucifer,” right into his ear and he shakes apart right then and there with a hoarse cry. his wings snap out, feathers shaking, as he comes between them, then fold in against chloe’s shoulders, sending sparks of static through her that coil tightly in her gut. she pets his wings as he comes down from it, his thighs shaking underneath her, until he hisses and pulls his wings away from her grasp. instead she turns them to his hair, his face, lifts his head to meet his bleary eyes and panting mouth, the pretty flush on his face that travels down his neck, spread out against his chest.

“how was that?” she asks, and she receives a breathless chuckle in reply.

“bloody hell.”

chloe laughs, a little breathless herself. “that’s what i thought.” she peppers his open mouth with a few kisses before she rolls off his lap, dislodging his hands so she can sit back, one hand braced behind her to keep her upright. “now,” she says, crooking a finger at him, “come here.”

he’s back into himself in an instant, practically pouncing on her in his haste to kiss her again. he pours the mettle in his blood straight into her, fire and passion and _love_ , and it fills her up, floods her belly. she arches her back as soon as he starts kissing down her throat, moans when he takes one of her nipples into his mouth. he places a nip to her ribcage, another to her hip, torturously slow, before he settles between her legs and looks up at her, his gaze hungry and dark.

“what do you want, darling?” just the vibration of his voice makes her want to squeeze her legs together.

“make me come,” is all she says. his grin is wicked before he lifts her legs over his shoulders with practiced reverence. she’s so wet already that he can slip a finger into her with ease and curl it just so, setting her shaking. he latches his mouth to her clit and _sucks_ , and it’s so good, she mangles an approximation of his name and he _growls_ , his wings flaring up and arching out, glittering like stained glass and that’s it. chloe comes with his name in her throat, her hands in his hair, bent over him like a prayer.

he licks at her, short, firm strokes of his tongue until her toes curl and she whimpers, tugging at his hair. he comes up slightly out of breath, eyes glittering as they find hers. he makes a low noise of satisfaction as his tongue darts out to lick her wetness from his lips, and gently eases his finger from inside her, and despite the care she whines at the loss. he props his chin on her hip, scruff pricking against her skin, and sucks that finger into his mouth, making a show of it, until chloe digs her heels into his slick back and bites down on a moan. his feathers are brushing her calves, so she pushes down just a little and his jaw drops and he makes a little choked noise.

“stop that, you tease,” chloe says, still gaining her breath, and it’s then that he laughs, pulling his finger from his mouth and instead pressing a kiss to her belly. chloe sighs. “come here.”

lucifer noses his way back up her body, haphazardly placing kisses where he sees fit; under the point of her ribs; between her breasts; the point of her jaw. chloe basks in the light of his affection and the afterglow of a good orgasm, before meeting him for a kiss, tender and sweet. she can taste herself on him, and that’s the only reason she reinstates her hold on his hair and licks into his mouth, and she can feel the vibration on his chest where it’s pressed to hers when he groans.

they pull apart, and he flops to the side, but doesn’t go far. they both need a moment to calm their breaths but they do it together. when chloe searches his eyes all she can drown in the depths of his adoration, filled to the brim with content.

“so you’re gonna let me do that again, right?” he voice is quiet under the rush of her lungs. he laughs, a real laugh, and places his hand to her cheek, his thumb gentle under her eye.

“i think i might.”

chloe let’s affection bubble from her throat like a stream, and it makes him smile. lucifer hasn’t put his wings away yet, though one is now cramped against the bed. the other is relaxed and low, and the tips of his flight feathers brush chloe’s ankles. they looked a little mussed, and when chloe reaches to straighten one out, lucifer rumbles low in his throat and closes his eyes.

“here-” chloe taps his shoulder, prompting his eyes back open - “roll over. you look a little ruffled.”

“round two already?” lucifer does as he’s told, but not before shooting chloe a wry smile. she swats his ass once it’s exposed to her, prompting lucifer into a barking laugh.

“maybe next time.”

she’s sure to be gentle with him, not really knowing how sensitive his wings are after an ordeal like that, but she swings a leg over him and starts working the oil that had built up near the base of his wings through the rest of his feathers. lucifer pillows his head on his arms and stretches his wings out in satisfaction, and chloe can’t keep the smile off her face. she lays every feather straight, and in no time at all his wings are restored to their glory, holy and glimmering a thousand colours, even in the dimly set lights. he glows softly, like an old star, and chloe leans down and kisses the back of his neck. she smoothes her hands down his wings for good measure, listening to him murmur something in a language she doesn’t know while his wings bend back up to her hands, magnetized. she laughs, just softly, and tugs one of his feathers just to watch his wing twitch and to hear his breath catch in his throat.

“careful, or you’ll have another situation on your hands.” 

chloe gets off of him, and with a little coaxing, wiggles underneath one of his wings. “and since when have you ever been worried about having a _situation_?”

“touché.”

they share a laugh, and lucifer turns to cuddle up to her again. his feathers shift against her skin and send flashes of feeling through her, all warm, all love. she tucks against his chest and his wing pulls her a little bit tighter.

“thank you,” she says, and she doesn’t need to see his face to sense the confusion; she can feel it in the shift of his wing against her back.

“you don’t need to thank me for orgasms, chloe.” he sounds almost offended for her, and chloe has to bite her lip to keep from laughing and hurting his feelings.

“i wasn’t talking about that.” she tips her head so she can look him in the eyes. his head is tilted like an inquisitive bird’s. “you, sharing that with me. it was very brave, lucifer.”

“ah, well,” he dips his head, and his wings draw up and only come back down when chloe protests the cold with a small noise, “you’re welcome, then.”

chloe leans up to press a kiss to his chin, his lips. he cups her cheek and kisses her back more fully, so sweetly she almost tastes the sugar. 

“wore me out, though,” she mumbles.

“i’m offended you think i wouldn’t,” he says, without a trace of irritation. they are quiet, and lucifer’s breathing evens out, and chloe thinks he’s drifted off.

“detective?” his voice brings her back from the edge of sleep.

“yeah?”

“i love you.”

chloe’s heart swells to the point where it almost hurts. she blinks her eyes open and he looks serine and hopeful, his eyes unguarded, like looking up at the night sky. chloe presses the softest kiss she can muster to the scar in the center of his chest.

“i love you too.”

satisfied, lucifer hums, a low pitch she feels more than hears, and shuts his eyes. his smile doesn’t fade until long after he’s fallen asleep, and the soft glow on his wings is enough to lul chloe into sleep. she dreams of gates, and opening them, and touching what’s on the other side.

**Author's Note:**

> i have no excuse
> 
> incalyscent-writes.tumblr.com


End file.
